


The Rings

by Bolt_DMC



Category: Bolt (2008)
Genre: F/M, Literature, Movie Reference, Music, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Soulmates, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-09 21:15:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20516540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolt_DMC/pseuds/Bolt_DMC
Summary: It’s Penny’s wedding day, and Bolt and Mittens only have one job to do -- act as ring bearers at the ceremony. Naturally, a monkey wrench falls into the works. Will the two pets successfully fulfill their obligation? And is this a chance for Bolt and Mittens to make the day even more special? Primary cultural references include songs by the pop group Talking Heads as well as TV shows starring Don Adams, Woody Allen films, Herman Melville's novel "Moby Dick," and some atypical wedding music.





	The Rings

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: July 2020.
> 
> For Larry D.

1.

Today was a very special day. Penny and Joe were getting married, and as it turned out, they couldn't have picked a hotter day for the occasion. Perhaps not surprisingly, Mittens was grumbling like a fifty-year-old oil furnace. The cat felt honored to participate in the ceremony, of course -- she and Bolt would be the ring bearers -- but this required wearing a vest modeled after those donned by comfort animals, festooned with ribbons and topped with a small ring box. On a scorcher like today, such an accoutrement just felt hot, cumbersome, and itchy.

"Hey, Wags -- c’mere!" said Mittens to the little shepherd, who had become absorbed with chomping on his well-worn Mr. Carrot squeaky toy. "Make yourself useful and scratch my back, willya?" She had been able to get her vest un-velcroed and shed, but still couldn't quite reach that crucial place in the small of her back.

Bolt ambled over and dutifully did as he was instructed, eliciting a sigh of relief from the cat. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah! That's it! That's the spot! You got it juuuust right, snugglebug."

"Nice to know I can still give you pleasure in so many ways, kiddo," replied the shepherd as a mischievous glint came into his eye. "Speaking of which… "

Mittens touched Bolt sweetly on the cheek. "Nah, we’re not gonna have time for that right now. But… I'll make it up to you later. Tonight, okay?" She affectionately bumped his nose with her forehead and purred.

"I guess I can hold off till then," the dog chuckled. He lovingly gave Mittens a wet, slobbery slurp on the cheek. "Hey, you know, you taste pretty good today. You wearing a new cologne, babe? Caviar No. 5 or something?" he giggled.

"Jeez," the cat groaned as she licked a paw and tried for the umpteenth time today to clean herself off. "Still smelling it, huh? Well y’know, that's the tuna I had for breakfast this morning. Remember? You came hurtling into the kitchen like a freight train and sent me face-first into my food bowl. Been picking fishy bits out of my ears ever since. You need to toot your warning signal when you come to a crossing gate there, Casey Jones."

"Sorry about that, Chief," said the pooch in a nasal whine that approximated Don Adams surprisingly well. "But I was… I was being pursued by two hives worth of angry bees at the time."

"Boy, he's in rare form today," thought Mittens. "He must really be happy. Not that I blame him, of course." She wrinkled up her face and smirked. "Not buying it, big guy. There isn't an apiary within thirty miles of here."

"Would you believe one hive’s worth of bees?" ventured Bolt.

"Nope, can't put one over on me that easily, pal," the cat countered.

"…how about one rather grumpy horsefly?" said the dog finally.

Mittens groaned. "You through channeling Don Adams as Inspector Gadget or Byron Glick or Tennessee Tuxedo or… "

"It's Maxwell Smart, actually," Bolt corrected the cat like a stuffy schoolmarm. "Maxwell Smart."

"Yeah, come to think of it I didn't think it would be Inspector Gadget," Mittens replied. "Otherwise, you'd be telling me how much smarter you are than his dog Brain ever thought of being."

2.

Penny and Joe had decided their wedding would be a laid-back affair, not because they couldn't afford a fancy church service but because it just wasn't their style. Having a simple civil ceremony on the farmhouse lawn, surrounded by a modest number of family and friends, with music played through speakers from a boom box -- for them, this would be the ideal start to an ideal marriage. Taking the place of Penny’s absent father was Malcolm, her actor friend who had played Dr. Calico on Bolt’s television show back when, who had happily consented to walk the young bride-to-be down the aisle.

The music the couple had chosen for the processional and recessional was sufficiently imaginative that even the hypercritical Mittens couldn't find fault. The first movie Penny and Joe had watched together was "Hannah and Her Sisters," which along with "Manhattan" and "Annie Hall" constitute the best films director Woody Allen ever made. They had especially liked the stately, noble slow movement from Johann Sebastian Bach's Harpsichord Concerto No. 5 that appears in the picture, perceptively choosing the original version over its syrupy rearrangement one sometimes encounters under the title "Arioso." Their recessional music option was even more unusual but no less effective, the "Jupiter" movement from Gustav Holst’s fine orchestral suite "The Planets." The movement’s outer sections are celebratory and lively, surrounding a more majestic midsection that flows like an intense hymn -- in a certain sense reflecting joy on several levels.

Half an hour before the ceremony's start, Bolt casually sauntered up to the cat. "I can't tell you how happy I am that this day has come at last," he said intently. "For so long, I’ve felt like Penny’s protector -- that I'm the one responsible for her well-being and happiness. In a way, it's a relief to know I’m handing her off to someone who cares about her as much as I do. I know she'll be happy with him, too. It's like a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I can finally relax. I'm no youngster, and at last I can die a happy dog, with no worries or regrets." Bolt was in fact well past the age that members of his breed usually lived, at 17 years old. He could thank good genes, his relatively small size (smaller dogs usually live longer than their bigger counterparts), and an athlete’s stout constitution for that.

The cat gently took his paw. "Hey, don't talk about leaving me just yet. I'm not ready to give you up for a while, y’know. Let's just enjoy the moment, okay?" She understood how relieved he felt, though, and was glad of it.

"Sorry," the little shepherd replied softly. "You're right. Didn't mean to get all philosophical on you like that. Though I do wish Rhino were here. He’d be enjoying this a lot."

Mittens nodded. "I know. That’s the problem with being a critter who has such a short life expectancy. Before you know it, you’re bound for hamster heaven, or wherever it is they head off to. And life’s so darned brief as it is."

The two pets sat silently for a minute, remembering their friend from so long ago.

"So," said the cat finally. "Guess you better give me one of those rings. We’re each supposed to have one, right?"

Bolt removed the vest from his back. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Let me get yours out." Suddenly, a look of panic crept across his face. When he opened the ring box, it was empty.

"Oh my dog!" gasped Mittens. "You didn't lose them, did you?"

"No no no no no!" stammered the pooch. "They've got to be here someplace!" But search as he might, he just couldn't find them.

The shepherd sniffed around the general area nervously, but nothing turned up. "What’re we gonna do now?" he groaned. "How in the heck did I manage to do that?"

"Okay -- okay -- don't panic," said Mittens, trying to calm the frantic dog. "I've got an idea. It might not be the ideal solution, but it's better than nothing."

Joe was a man of few vices. He rarely drank alcohol and didn't smoke or use drugs, but he did have two significant food weaknesses, coffee and Cracker Jacks. In fact, he had laid in several cases of the sweet delight in the basement of Penny’s farmhouse. And this was not your usual incarnation of the snack -- instead of containing cheap prizes like temporary tattoos or riddles on paper, this was a special retro release of the crunchy treat that featured premium rewards such as whistles, figurines, and decoder rings.

Bolt and Mittens burst into the house and scrambled down to the basement, rooting around until they found the treat stash. They tore open box after box, candied popcorn and peanuts flying into the air like confetti. "Here’s one!" yelled the cat, holding up a bright green plastic ring with a yellow spinning device set atop a white disc with cryptic symbols. A few minutes and several ripped-open boxes later, the little shepherd discovered a second one. Dog and cat stood knee deep in the sticky snack, but at least they had found what they were looking for.

"We haven’t got much time," the pooch said anxiously. "C’mon -- we don't want to be late or anything." They dashed off, each carrying a ring in their mouth. Once outside, they put the two prizes in their ring boxes, then slipped into their gaily-decorated vests, taking their place in the processional line.

3.

Like everyone else, the Justice of the Peace was sweltering in the 95-degree-plus heat and saturated humidity of the day. He didn't rush the proceedings needlessly, but didn't tarry, either. No one minded the relatively brisk pace he set, as everyone was drenched in sweat.

He did linger a bit on the meaning of love, however. Whether a husband for wife, human for pet, parent for child, sibling for sibling, or even things like artist for muse, listener for music, reader for book, viewer for painting -- it was all the highest and most noble state to which one could aspire. What makes life worth living, in fact.

After the obligatory question asking if anyone objected to the union (no one did) followed by asking the two sweethearts if they would accept each other as husband and wife (they did), he asked for the rings to be produced.

Penny bent down and called for Bolt. He seemed sheepish for some reason, and she discovered why soon enough. An amused smile crossed her face at the sight of the plastic decoder ring in the little box on his back. "Bolty, you lost them, didn't you?" she whispered. "Oh well, I guess these kinds of things happen sometimes. After the ceremony, you're going to go sniff them out like my good boy, right?" A guilty look crossed the little shepherd’s face as he whined in assent.

The young bride smiled sweetly as she held out the decoder ring and improvised a brief vow. "Joe -- one of so many things I love about you is your ability to roll with the punches and shrug off the small inconveniences of life. Our wedding rings may have gone into hiding temporarily, and making do with a Cracker Jacks substitute is just a short-term setback -- but bless you, you never seem to sweat the little things. You’re the best, big guy, and I'm so glad to put this token of my love and esteem on your finger."

Joe grinned, took the decoder ring out of Mittens’s pack, and extemporized briefly. "Not much for speeches, as you’re well aware. There's so much I know and cherish about you, Penny, stuff I don't need a decoder ring to figure out. But you've got lots of great unknowns, too -- and I'll always want something like this in my pocket to help discover and understand them. Looking forward to a lifetime of the known and the unknown. So, please accept this decoder ring as a temporary token of my love and respect. Bolt’ll find the real ones soon, I'm sure."

"By the power vested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss each other," said the Justice of the Peace warmly.

4.

The reception, like the wedding, was low-key and homey. By now everyone had gone back to the farmhouse’s air-conditioned comfort for food and drinks. Bolt and Mittens, however, remained outside. The pooch was frantically sniffing about the lawn, determined to locate the two missing wedding rings.

"Hey, Captain Ahab!" quipped the cat. "Let's head inside and have a munch. Then you can hightail it back out and harpoon the white whale. Those rings won't be going anywhere for a while yet. Don't worry so much." The obsessive shepherd would not be distracted, though, and continued to root around.

Eventually, he discovered them underneath the front porch, most likely having dropped out of the ring carrier and through the porch's floor slats when he had exited via the doggy door. Bolt emerged triumphantly, if plenty dusty, with two rings in his mouth. "Don't swallow, don't swallow, don't swallow!" he thought to himself. "I don't want anybody trying to get these out of my stomach today." The dog trotted happily over to Mittens and dropped the prize at her feet.

"Good work, sweetie!" she said. "Never would have thought to look there. Gotta say, you're thorough."

The rings having been located, the pooch decided to relax a bit, putting a song on the boom box selected from the small stack of nearby CDs. Bolt’s choice was "Happy Day" by the Talking Heads, from the group’s first release "Talking Heads ‘77." In some ways, it was emblematic of an aspect of his musical taste. It's a fine, if unapologetically odd little tune that cunningly mates elements from two of pop music's most reviled genres, disco and bubblegum, featuring lead singer David Byrne’s cryptic lyrics and puppy-yelp vocals. For all that, it somehow manages to truly be a love song -- and a warm, sweet, charming one, too. He sat next to Mittens, front leg embracing her shoulder, as he closed his eyes to savor the pleasing melody.

But as the selection ended, Bolt seemed lost in thought rather than truly happy.

"Something on your mind there, Wags?" asked the cat. "You're making Rodin’s ‘Thinker’ statue look like a featherbrained Valley girl over there."

"It's nothing, really," the little shepherd finally said. "I dunno -- it's just that Penny and Joe getting married today makes their love seem -- well, so valid and vital and official. There's something nice about openly declaring your love to somebody that way. It's kind of funny to say it, maybe, but I almost feel like I haven't -- oh, I dunno -- really made an honest woman out of you or something."

Mittens smiled warmly and touched his nose with her paw. "It's really sweet of you to say that. Really, it is. And don't think I don't appreciate the sentiment. But marriage is just for silly humans after all, isn't it? Animals don't need something like that to validate their love. It's not like I'm a parking garage ticket or something."

Bolt pondered a minute or two more. He then picked up one of the two rings, sat in front of the cat, took her right paw in his, and bowed his head. "No -- no. I want to do this. I really do. Will you, Mittens the Cat, take me as your one true love, your husband, your soulmate? Forever and always?"

She was moved by his sweet display of affection. He wasn't always the best with words, and this was an especially grand gesture for him. "Yes -- yes. I do," she said softly, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

It was then that the pooch realized it was going to be tough to find someplace on Mittens to place the ring. No, her digits were too small and her paw was far too big. Her tail was also too thick to accommodate it. "Hold still," the dog murmured. He took the cat’s left ear, rolled it to the right size, and slipped the ring on it. "Ears to you, my love," he grinned.

Mittens was so happy she didn't even think to comment on his groaner of a pun. She smiled and put the parallel question to the little shepherd. When he replied "I do," she slid the other ring over his rolled left ear.

"I guess that really makes it official, huh?" asked the cat.

"As official as it can be," Bolt responded. "Funny maybe, but that meant a lot to me."

"Yeah, me too," Mittens concurred. A silly grin crossed her face as she next said, "Oh, just got one question for you."

"What's that?" the pooch asked.

"So… how did you know my middle name was ‘The’?"

Bolt laughed heartily. "I dunno -- lucky guess?"

"Anything we've forgotten, sweetie?" said Mittens. "I mean, as long as we’re getting all formally official and everything."

"Well, we've already had something that might qualify as processional music. Maybe some recessional music would be nice, now that you mention it," the dog offered after a brief ponder. "Think I've got just the thing here, too." Bolt went back to the little pile of CDs next to the boom box and picked out a disc. He then returned to where Mittens stood and said, "Sit!"

She looked at him with amusement. "Wags, I’m a cat, remember? We don't do ‘Sit!’."

Bolt was undeterred, though. "Sit!" he repeated. "Staaaaay… "

The cat rolled her eyes. "Okay. But you know, it's a lucky thing for you I've got a weakness for take-charge guys."

The shepherd started the machine up. Cantering from the speakers like a frisky zebra colt came the Talking Heads tune "Thank You for Sending Me an Angel." Bolt grinned as he marched around Mittens in a circle in time to the music, swinging his head up and down in rhythm. "You can… look… you won’t see nothing like me," he sang cheerfully.

She knew the song well and laughed happily. The first selection from the album "More Songs about Buildings and Food," it's a bouncy, infectious number with a march-like beat. The overjoyed singer energetically proclaims his love to his sweetheart in an unconventional yet unmistakable manner.

"Oh… uh oh… uh oh… uh oh… uh oh… " sang the pooch, still striding happily around the cat.

Mittens sat up on her haunches, stuck a paw in the air, and batted in time to the music as if playing with a length of yarn hanging from heaven, the better to urge Bolt on.

"…you can walk, you can talk just like me… if that’s what you wanna do… " he sang, still marching.

"I love you, honey," the cat smiled.

"Love you too, babe," he called out, continuing to strut gleefully around Mittens. "…but first… I’ll walk in circles ‘round you, but first… I -- walk around the world… " the dog sang.

Bolt struck a goofy pose and smiled, switching off the boom box as the song ended. The cat ran to him and they hugged each other close for a long time.

Penny and Joe had watched all this from the farmhouse’s picture window, their arms around each other. "Looks like Bolt found those wedding rings after all," said Joe. "Knew he would. He’s a good tracker."

"Awww, that’s so cute," replied Penny. "I hope we’ll be as much in love as they are when we get old."

Joe kissed her softly. "We will be, Penny. We will be."


End file.
